


Seducing the Enemy

by mysticaljayne



Series: Month of Love [14]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-20 00:19:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5985988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysticaljayne/pseuds/mysticaljayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Budapest is cursed. Completely. Clint Barton is never going back to that place again.</p><p>Except he does.</p><p>SHIELD sent him on an assignment that leads straight back to that cursed place in pursuit of the BlackWidow.</p><p>Budapest is cursed...even if Clint found his greatest blessing there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seducing the Enemy

“Budapest is cursed.” Clint mutters into his comms and actually hopes Coulson hears the annoyance in his voice. It had taken him three weeks to track the elusive Black Widow to this place. Three weeks to get there, and within two hours he lost her, found her, and got himself shot. Then lost her again. Budapest was cursed.

 

“Only to you, Hawkeye.” His handler’s dry voice came over the comms, and Clint can’t help a dark chuckle from slipping out. Coulson had been there for the last Budapest escapade.

 

This would be the third time he went to Budapest, and at this point, being in Budapest was just a bad idea. The Black Widow must have been doing some research on him since she had decided to come here, or all places. Budapest was cursed. “And to the people with me.” Clint couldn’t help the warning; last time they lost two good agents and he’d been stuck on bed rest for a week. Stupid birds. Stupid clown. Stupid… “I have visual.”

 

His nest was high, and could easily see her leaving a store down on the street. Didn’t he mention after losing her, he found her trail again? After a day, but still, he had. His skills were good enough to counter the bad luck of Budapest. “Target locked?”

 

The wind was right. His aim perfect. No civilians in way…and yet Clint hesitated. The elusive Black Widow was bending down, to hand one of the street urchins the bread that she had just left the store with. Her file had her being cold and calculating, with no warmth inside. He still had the shot, but he wasn’t going to take it. He had to give her a choice, first. “Negative.”

 

“Follow.” Coulson’s order was something he was going to do anyway, so no big deal for him. Clint slung his bow on his back and took off following her. On rooftops, of course. No reason to get on her level if he could avoid it. He was a long range kind of guy. Her? File says she likes it close and personal.

 

To talk to her, he needed to get in her range. But who ever said he was smart?

 

 

 

Black Widow:

No matter which was she turned, her shadow would not drop. The person following her was good, that was for certain. Someone looking at the price on her head, and hoping to be set for life.

 

If they thought that, they were going to be mistaken. The Red Room had honed her into a killing machine, and she wasn’t about to be taken down by someone wanting an easy paycheck. She was going to give them a run for their money, even if she’d bet on them being the ones leaving Budapest in a body bag.

 

She knew she hit one of them. A shadow that should have been, and blood remaining where it had been told her at least one was injured. Seriously? Doubtful, but even a small wound would slow them down.

 

She was tired, though. Tired of fighting for her life. If the person showed promise, she might just let them kill her. Might.

 

Giving the kids a piece of bread wasn’t planned, and her handler would have called her a fool before sending her back out. Her handler was dead, however, and at her hand. It was either her handler or her, and she chose herself. She had begun to remember, and that was something that could not be allowed to happen. Flashes of memory that the longer she remained free of the Red Room started to come together into a clear picture.

 

She killed people. Not because they deserved it, but because she was told to. There was no Mother Russia telling her what to do, just a man in a lab coat wanting more. ‘Hail Hydra, we are legion.’

 

Hydra isn’t Russia. Russia is…Russia was home. Russia was everything. Hydra? Hydra took her and trained her. Hydra backed the Red Room. Russia? Russia didn’t even know of its existence.

 

Her ledger was coated in red and with every new memory that she gained, more red gushed from it. She isn’t uncaring. The little girl back there, that she gave bread to, reminded her of the girl that she had been. A faint memory, that she wasn’t sure was truth or not.

 

What is truth? Merely a lie with the right clothes.

 

More shadows. Apparently the person following her wasn’t as stupid as she thought.

 

Three people on the ground. Time to head up.

 

She does a quick turn into one of the taller buildings and moved through the crowd until she made it to the back stairs. A quick look in a window confirmed her thought of being followed. On the roof, there would be no people to get caught in the crossfires when she took these three down.

 

 

 

Hawkeye:

“Coulson?” Clint noticed the three men following The Black Widow, and started to close the distance between them and himself. “Do we have people on the ground?”

 

A slight static, and his handler’s voice came through. “Negative. Report.”

 

“Widow has three friends.” Clint huffed out as he took off running across a rooftop. “Carrying. Looks like a hit.”

 

Another obstacle to jump over, and metal bar to avoid cracking his head into. “Observe. Do not engage.”

 

Clint rolled his eyes at that. He wasn’t that dumb, thank you very much. “Copy.”

 

“I mean it, Hawkeye. Observe.” Coulson knew his penchant for going off on his own during a mission. It was part of the reason why no one but him would dare to deal with Hawkeye. An asset that couldn’t be controlled? Most gave up after one mission. The others? Too many threats from Clint to shoot them.

 

They deserved it, leaving him without an exit strategy. Oh, and the other time was because they deemed one of the rookie agents as an acceptable loss.

 

Nobody is an acceptable loss. Thinking like that, is how the bad guys think. Clint wasn’t about to think like that. The whole thing with being ‘good’ is caring about each individual.

 

He did get the rookie out, though. The poor man still did part of his paperwork in thanks. Coulson was more appreciative of the paperwork than Clint, but Clint does enjoy not having to listen to his handler complain about incomplete paperwork. Or very vague answers.

 

Saying ‘Arrows: A lot’ was just as good as saying ‘Arrows: 254’. He knew how many arrows he spent, he just didn’t care to let them know it. The less people expected of him, the less he had to do. It was also funny to watch Jen in Supply Coordination turn red in the face.

 

Another quick flip, and he was on the roof above and to the side of the building Widow and her three friends had entered. Just then, he realized he hadn’t replied to his handler. Whoops. “Copy. Hawkeye out.” He got the message, and he had every intention of keeping it.

 

Hawkeye watched as the Widow exited on the root fop, and within moments the three men following her came out to.

 

He saw the deadly dance as she took out first one, then the second, and finally the third without seeming to be touched by them at all. Staying out of range was definitely on his list of things to do at the moment…

 

Until the rooftop was surrounded by black attired, gun wielding hostiles.

 

She wouldn’t be able to take all of them out. Even if he was sent in to do so himself, watching them kill or capture in this way would be wrong. In that moment, Clint chose which side he was aligned with. Taking his bow off, he lined up a shot, waiting for the moment to start his rain of arrows.

 

 

 

Black Widow:

She stood, observing the people that have come to either kill her, or to take her back and have her memories wiped. They were her memories, and she wasn’t going to let them be taken, to let whatever of herself she had been able to keep, taken away from her.

 

They were foot soldiers, people that were trained well, but not as well as her. They were recruited, she was raised. That was the difference between them and her, and that was going to be their downfall. She was a weapon. Them? They were merely tools.

 

She took out two, before she noticed that they weren’t attacking her back. A quick glance and she knew someone was helping her. Anyone that got within a certain range of her back was shot down with an arrow to the throat. She was getting help from somebody.

 

Help that she wasn’t going to think too hard about.

 

Her attackers were slightly better than her first estimation, but only slightly. She took out all but one, when that one seemed to have a brain on his shoulders.

 

A gun shot, searing pain, and down she fell from the unexpected hit.

 

The last one, the one who shot her, didn’t have a moment to think more when he fell, an arrow to the eye socket.

 

She applied pressure to the wound, and watched as the person who helped her land on the rooftop from the one next to it. He wasn’t incredibly tall, nor was he an in your face type of handsome. He was the kind of guy that you would look twice at, but not quite sure as to why.

 

He bent down, and his hands joined hers in putting pressure on the gunshot wound to her shoulder. He was talking to someone, and she could easily take him out, injured even as she was.

 

She didn’t, though. You don’t repay a kindness with death.

 

“Come on.” He took the device out of his ear and threw it on the ground. One arm helping to support her weight. “I know a place to get you patched up.”

 

She didn’t fight, but let him lead her. He had her back, and that was something she could repay.

 

 

 

Hawkeye:

Just because he was a part of SHIELD, didn’t mean he had gotten rid of all of his safe houses. Then, considering that this place was Budapest, he always kept two in the city. One supplied by SHIELD, and the second one from his own stores of cash.

 

He was a good agent, but an even better assassin. His targets never saw him coming.

 

Except for the woman he was helping to his secondary safe house.

 

On the way, he called himself every kind of fool there was, but still he kept on his path. This woman deserved a second chance. She deserved a chance like Coulson had given him.

 

Ugh, Coulson was going to have his head whenever they meet up again. Losing the comm had been necessary, even if his handler would believe otherwise. He couldn’t let SHIELD get her. They would make her disappear, and she didn’t deserve that.

 

There was goodness still in her, and he was going to find it.

 

The place was small, but well furnished. He helped her to the couch before rummaging in the cabinets for his extra First-Aid Kid. In it, would have the materials to take out the bullet and to sew her up, if she wanted him to.

 

“Here.” He handed her the strongest alcohol he had in the place. “Getting that bullet out is going to hurt.”

 

She took a big gulp of the stuff, and grimaced as though the taste was a personal affront to her. “Why are you helping me, Hawkeye?”

 

He knew her name, but didn’t all of the greats know the other greats in their field? Just to be certain that they were ready dare their paths cross? It was a type of respect that came from hearing of the other one’s exploits. “So you do know who I am?”

 

She looked at him, a bit cross eyed because of how close he was to her face. “Why?”

 

He didn’t stop from pulling the bullet out, or from sewing up the wound. “Because someone gave me a chance.”

 

“Paying it along? How sweet.” Her tone was sweetly acidic, but still Clint didn’t reply in kind. He had been in a similar place, before.

 

He shook his head, and taped the gauze onto the wound. “Not quite. I was sent to kill you.” Maybe telling her wasn’t the best move, but professionals deserve such.

 

She didn’t seem surprised, but a smirk was on her face, and something told him that this was the real Widow. “Do you always save the people you are sent to kill?” Her tone is teasing, but there was a seriousness to it, too.

 

“No.” Clint finished and sat back to look to better look at her entire face. “Just the ones deserving a second chance.”

 

“And I deserve one?”

 

He took that question seriously, and laid back in his chair, vulnerable to an attack from her, if she really wanted to. “Yes. You didn’t have to feed that kid, but you did. There’s goodness still in you. You are not the woman in the file I was given.”

 

A snort, a laugh that was more harsh than mirth, bubbled forth from her in a quick burst. “I was her, maybe, at some point. I don’t remember all that well. They…they didn’t like us to remember anything other than what they wanted.”

 

Clint nodded, and kept up his relaxed pose. “We have three weeks before an extraction team will be here to hunt me down.”

 

“What do you have in mind?” Slightly coy, but underneath it all, Clint could see the seriousness and truth beneath it.

 

“In two weeks, you’re coming with me to meet my handler.” She scoffed, but he wasn’t finished. “I want you to join SHIELD, but mostly I just want you to have a chance.”

 

She waited until he got up to grab a thing of coffee to make, “What if they won’t have me?”

 

“Want to get married?”

 

Her eyes widened in shock. “You have got to be kidding.”

 

“Nope.” He put the coffee grains into a machine that looked to have been dug out of an archaeological site. “They won’t kill their best agent’s wife. Bad for morale and all that.”

 

“Hmmm.” She was really thinking about it, he could see if on her face. “You will protect me from your own people?”

 

“Yes.”

 

She stood and walked over till she was crowding his space. “Fine. I will join your SHIELD. To clean my ledger.”

 

Attractive woman pressing against him? Of course he would be turned on, but still he didn’t rise to her bait. “Clean it together?”

 

“Of course.” She suddenly pulled back, but smirked his way. “I’ll also marry you for morale.”

 

Budapest might just be his favorite place to be, especially when she whispered, “Let’s practice.” In his ear.

 

She wasn’t going to kill him that day, and most likely never again.

 

As they lay there, tangled together, she whispered words that he wasn’t certain that he should have heard, “I owe you…”

 

He didn’t want her to owe him, but changing ‘owe’ to something else was going to take time, and he’d take whatever she was willing to give.

**Author's Note:**

> The description about Clint being a guy that you would look twice at and not be completely sure why? Yeah, I met someone like that once. Really nice guy. Good dancer.


End file.
